Treading on the Thin Ice
by CassiopeiaSullivan
Summary: From safe and predictable life which Severus lead as Hogwarts Potions Master he is once again to face grim days. But this time he has nothing to lose. This time he is prepared. Or he at least believes so.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Potter-verse. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.

„It came to our utmost grief to hear about Mrs. Snape's demise" the woman said with a sympathetic almost-smile. Severus thought she looked very professional. He also noticed she was nice; from the moment he walked into one of the many bureaus occupied by Ministry officials she seemed to be exceptionally nice. Funny how he could only experience that from people he didn't know.

For Severus Snape wasn't a likeable person. He used to be his father's scapegoat, only to become a victim of his peers' mischief and mockery; when he grew up and became a man he gained respect and a cold aura of awe, but never any liking.

"... of course we understand if you need more time in this situation and we may delay the inheritance matters, in the interim taking care of what the inheritance consists of, that is the house and the vault. But of course if you wish..." Severus recalled the old house at Spinner's End. At first he remembered what it was like when his father was still alive: when the place reeked of alcohol and seemed to be more like a hovel than a home inhabited by a family. He was really ashamed of the place he was raised in and since he became an adult he only came there seldom to visit his mother. Or rather measure the degree of devastation. Severus has been there only two times since his father died but it did not change much – empty bottles, odour and the coarse voice of a drunkard disappeared, but it still was the sad, dark place he remembered from his youth. He wondered if his mother's passing away would change anything in the grey terraced house. Probably not. Some things just remained unchangeable.

"...Mr. Snape?" now the woman looked at him with what looked like real concern.

"I wish for the matters to be delayed until the end of June due to other business I must attend to, then I will handle them myself."

The man puzzled her. Only a moment ago he seemed so lost in his reverie that she suspected she would have to repeat her speech, as it sometimes was in similar situations. But no, he registered all she said _and_ wanted to take care of the inheritance himself _after_ dealing with some different issues. What kind of person would take care of 'other business' mere days after his mother's passing away? His last relative, as she managed to read in the files before he came in? What a strange man he must be. The official wondered who he was; as the man came exactly on time she wasn't able to do more than peek into his folder before she shook his hand and asked him to sit down. He somehow seemed familiar, though the last time the witch had anything to do with a Potions Master was in her school days, and the individual was named Horace Slughorn.

"That's all right... do you wish to be owled around that time or will you contact us yourself?"

"I do not need to be notified, I will come myself" The woman scribbled something on the long piece of parchment she had before her. "All I want is that the matters were held... possibly quickly and without much further ado"

"Yes, I will try to keep all of the procedures concise as possible, however some routine bureaucracy is unavoidable; just some boring signing which will take a bit of your time; now, is the twenty-third of June at noon convenient for you?" she glanced up from the files she had been flipping through. Snape considered it for a moment.

"Yes" He answered.

"Then I only need your signature here and we can be done for now" She handed him a parchment with an official statement and a quill and waited for the man to sign it but he actually started reading the document. The witch was surprised yet again – most of the petitioners did not even bother to look at what was written on the parchments she gave them, hurriedly penning their names. But this wizard was also reading it very fast – she was impressed by how quickly his eyes ran across the lines on the page and in no time he was already writing small letters of spidery writing underneath the text and handing it back to her.

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

He stood up and she did the same. A brief, yet firm handshake above her desk and the wizard was out of the office. She peeked into the files.

_Name: Severus Tobias Snape_

_Born: 9 January 1960_

_Father: Tobias Snape (muggle)_

_Mother: __Eileen Snape, née Prince (witch)_

_Degree: Potions Master (1980)_

_Occupation: Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (1981-now)_

_So that's the thing,_ she thought leaning on a chair. She made quick calculations and nodded to herself in recognition. _Didn't take the potions NEWTs so he did not teach me… wasn't he also the Head of the House? How could I forget the man who was Head of my House? _But then it occurred to her that, in her mind, the place of the Head of Slytherin was always occupied by Slughorn. The man who simply thought her an idiot because she was rather bad at potions and did not compensate her lack of talent with influential parentage. When old Slug was replaced she breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't pay special attention to the new Head, as being a good student of NEWT level granted certain liberties. She also never caused trouble, which only helped her never be bothered. _He must have not been very interfering, _she thought,_ otherwise I would surely remember him well…_

But the witch's speculations were stopped by the next petitioner who knocked on the office door.

Severus apparated outside of the Hogwarts grounds still long before noon. He didn't have to conduct lessons until the next day, as a result of Dumbledore's decision. Of course, Potions Master had told the Headmaster that he could come back to work as soon as he returned from the Ministry but the old man wouldn't listen. He was certain that his employee needed "more time" and shouldn't be obligated to do anything for "at least" one day. All that the younger man was able to negotiate was that his "holiday" lasted that one day and not any longer. _Oh Albus,_ Severus thought, _why must you so insist that __I__ were so weak. _He walked to the castle with his pace as steady as always, pleased that the students weren't anywhere in sight, as there was still some time before the lunch break.

Severus was content he made it to the dungeons without meeting anyone on his way. He decided he would use his free time to mark some essays. After arranging them in a heap on the desk, he started reading through students' works and writing grades in red ink – quite a generous amount of them ended with a big bloody T. Not that the teacher was in a foul mood – he was actually rather satisfied that his visit in the Ministry went that swiftly. But the whole inheritance issue did leave him with a sense of anxiety – as if he had forgotten about something crucial or did not notice a detail of high importance. And also, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, events of last month _did_ affect the Potions Master in a way. Not that he felt particularly sad or had a special need to grieve, he just felt _nothing_. His concern was at the moment focused on the fact that his mother's demise should at least evoke some emotion; anger, insecurity, unease, _anything_. But it did not.

Severus recalled the funeral. The ceremony was quiet and modest, which wasn't a great surprise – neither Severus, the only son of the deceased, nor the meagre group of his mother's friends did think of Eileen Snape's death as an opportunity for pretentiousness. Her body was laid in a plain coffin made of lacquered mahogany and put six feet underground. That's all. Of course, Albus Dumbledore thought it very wise to show up "for support" which Severus did not need. The customary words have been said, Eileen's only descendant threw a handful of soil into the abyss and finally it was filled with more soil. The only person who cried was the sister of the deceased. _Laughable,_ thought Severus, _where was she when we were trapped in father's home? She'd only spit at mother's face for marrying a muggle._

Nevertheless, Severus remained unfazed by the little performance given by his aunt. After the funeral, when she tried to clutch his arm and convince how much compassionate she was towards him and that the loss was equal for her, Severus just shrugged her off. Too much time has passed for the man to be furious enough to yell at her and make it clear to everyone around how false the behaviour of his aunt was. All he felt towards the woman was coldness; coldness which made her mere touch repulsive and caused a rush in wizard's already hasty stride.

The clock in the Potions Master's office chimed, making him realize he missed lunch. Glad that Albus wouldn't ask questions, since he didn't know how long the affairs in the Ministry took, Severus summoned a house elf and ordered a meal from the kitchens. With a steaming mug in hand, he came back to grading essays, confines of routine and self-control still holding him safe and oblivious.


End file.
